


Grievous: New Dawn

by Classyfic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Character Growth, Gen, Mentorship, Original Character(s), what if
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26532703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Classyfic/pseuds/Classyfic
Summary: In an alternate timeline, where rather than being shot in his organic chest, Grievous is knocked back into the pits of Utapu. He is severed from all he knew, and must start life anew. And while time goes on, Grievous must change with it, both in mind, body, and spirit. A new life, new companion. A new mission.
Relationships: Mentor - Relationship
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	1. A different Ending

It is the battle of Utapu, amidst another grueling year of the Clone Wars conflict. Millions have fallen to the great fight, both for, against, and neutral.

A surprise attack has been launched against the great General Grievous by Republic forces.

Caught by surprise, but not without confidence, Grievous fights with his greatest foe and rival, Jedi master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Their duel is at its climax, and the fate of the entire galaxy is hinged on their resolve to defeat the other….

Chapter 1.

“Grievous! Your time ends now! Your reign of terror is over.” Kenobi cried, raising a blaster toward the general. Having lost his sabers, the great biomechanical menace stepped back, fury in his golden eyes, crimson and burgundy colored flesh surrounding them.

“You may try me Jedi but be ready to finally die!” he said, preparing to leap, his arms raring, rage and fury consuming him. But as his claws cracked into the concrete below him, a blaster shot of pure glowing plasma struck him in the chest, fired from his rival’s blaster.

However, he had just barely angled his body, and the blaster shot threw him back instead, knocking him off the cliff, into the great depths of the pits of Utapu. He screamed and cried with great fury as he fell; now, the great Jedi killer, hunter of the knights of the republic, now-

Presumably Dead.

Master Obi-wan dispassionately threw down the blaster.

“Such an uncivilized weapon.” He commented, taking only one glance back at the pit in which he had thrown his longtime foe. He sighed, as he now truly believed, the enemy he had fought so many times, was now dead.

It was never the will of Jedi to kill their enemies under hatred, and for one like Obi-wan, this was no truer that anyone else. But regardless, there was a feeling of relief, slight as it were, that the biomechanical menace was dead. Even he could not deny it.

All the lives of his comrades, their treasured existence in this universe, that this menace had taken. He walked off, hoping, to never, ever, see him again. As he walked off, the republic forces swarmed into the pits, the cascading sound of blaster fire far off in the distance, the remaining echoes of war.

In the end though, the force had other plans.

Deep, down in those sinkhole pits. The sunlight was barely able to reach to this far, and only in the exact positioning of Utapu’s sun could what in these deep caverns could be seen from the surface. Its rock-solid walls got wetter and filled with moss the deeper you went. At some points, the heat from the planets core could make it impossible to survive, and the only things down here were maintenance tunnels for the natives to mine from. The Confederacy had repurposed those tunnels for their military operations against the republic, and with the surprise invasion of Utapu by the republic now finishing, they were empty, along with the pits themselves, now clone troopers attacking them.

That didn’t apply to all though.

CRACK! A collision with the ground sent dust, bones, and rocks everywhere. The yellow lizard like eyes flickered open, scanning the environment. He raised a metal claw to his face, the bare sunlight illuminating the scratches and gashes on it. His bottom two arms were dysfunctional now, and they simply fell off in the collision. He picked himself up, albeit slowly. He flexed his remaining two arms and cracked his neck.

 _Where am I? that’s right. I was fighting Kenobi. It seems our rivalry had to come to an end._ Grievous stood up, his legs surprisingly undamaged. He had gripped the rock walls of Utapu the whole way down, wrecking the edges of his claws. But it had saved his life, even as he slammed through all the inter-pit bridges, and held onto rock walls. He gazed around the pit, then looking toward what would have been the sky. The pit was filled with those bridges, and it would be like a child climbing a great tree to go back up. But he was no child.

And yet. Something felt, different. Grievous held his head for a few seconds, feeling something in the back of his head. He pulled on it, and it came out easily, but he felt no different. He looked at what was in his hand. It seemed to be a small circuit of sorts, attached right to his spinal cord. He put it into of his small storage pockets. Suddenly and slowly, he felt, strange things in his head.

“Who am I? I am grievous, that is who I am. And yet, I feel like I have been, completed just now.” He asked himself, and to whoever was there with him.

He looked down at his chest, two of the protective plates pried open from Kenobi’s force grip. With a careful yet powerful pull, he forced them back closed as he could, the second one still damaged from the blaster fire. He looked at his hands, realizing as to how, mechanical they were.

Of course they were. he remembered the whole process. The agonizing process. He had been hit by an explosive, oh so long ago. Or was it that long ago? And the pain, that pain of reconstruction. He remembered it all now. For so long it had been an ebbing of memory, covered by anesthetics. But somehow he remembered it all. The view in the green fluid filled Batca holding, seeing a dark lord, robed in darker clothing, observing him. Yes, that was Sidious, his teachers master. The feeling of wires, metal, mechanical components being fused into his body, never to be removed again. The realization, his body-

was nearly all gone.

The droids, what happened to them? Not that he cared. But what would he do now? Dooku was dead, and it was clear something was about to happen with the clone forces on Utapu. The surprise attack was too convenient, even for the best of the republic generals to coordinate. He was the greatest strategist in the galaxy, and for damn sure without him the Separatists would not have made it as far as they did after he was given command.

Then, there was something else. He recalled something. A familial feeling. It soon disappeared, as he blinked a few times. He looked at his waist, no sabers to be found.

“I was, am a Jedi hunter. That is who, I was created to be. And yet that’s not right. Its, wrong.” He said to himself once again, and for the first time, there was, something else there.

Hesitation? No. he was never like that.

And yet….

He looked up toward the surface, the light having darkened slightly, coughing from the moisture. He looked at the rest of his body and deactivated the connections to his bottom two arms. They were useless. Had been useful, and yet so unnatural. He looked toward the nearest maintenance bridge, and with full force leapt onto the wall, smashing his claws onto it. They skidded slightly but were still strong enough to hold him. Although they had been dulled from falling down the sides of the sinkhole, they were still plenty enough to get him back up. One of his chest cavity armor components had been heavily damaged, and it would be his weak spot for the time being. No matter.

He began quickly climbing up the wall, with the speed and ease of a slow speeder on a flat plane, the mild moisture of the walls, with its layers of moss at the deeper parts the only thing deterring him. Upon reaching the first bridge, he swung his body over it, looking both ways through the tunnels. He leapt up to the next one, barely grabbing it, but holding on, then promptly pulling himself over. He did so again and again, until he reached the second to last one that was closer. He instead went into the tunnels, and soon hearing voices from deep inside, the natural light fading, and swapping over to artificial light from ceiling lamp. Male, soldier voices. He sunk his claws and feet into the walls, crawling up onto the ceiling, hanging perfectly upside down. He crept quietly as his body moved forward, his back completely flat. He craned his head a slight angle down, listening to the conversations of the Clone soldiers, some without their helms.

“I want Kenobi taken down now! By order 66 he must be destroyed, along with any other remaining force sensitive children on this planet.” The head clone said, and the clones put their helms back on and spread out.

 _Order 66? I was never informed of this. I need more information._ He leapt down, in front of the group. Their blasters immediately trained on his position, as he stood up, his imposingly tall figure pushing them back a few steps.

“Grievous. How are you still alive? Kenobi killed you.” The captain Clone asked, pointing a blaster.

“My death was greatly exaggerated it seems. What is this order 66?” Grievous said, a hand naturally deviating toward his waist. But there was nothing there.

“Eliminate him!” the captain cried, firing his blaster, and so did the others. Grievous leapt onto him, tearing his helmet off, grabbing him by the neck and flinging him with amazing force at another soldier, who was knocked back. The other clone fired, but grievous speedily evaded the panicked shots, and upon grabbing his head, snapped his neck instantly.

He began walking over to the clone captain, as more blaster fire erupted around him. As more troopers fired on him, the captain rolled behind an AT tank for cover. Spotting where the blaster was coming from, a row of troops descending the hallway. A quick look that way, then back at his target, he leapt full force into the crowd, throwing clones aside like small children’s toys. He took a blaster from one, throwing him over the edge. He fired it at a few troops, then pelted it at another. He swiped open the chests of the troops, obliterating their chest plate, shattering it completely. He grabbed another close soldier, sending him onto one of the soldiers still close, throwing him over the edge as well, both screaming as they plummeted. He had no use for a lightsaber in moments like these, his hunters instinct paired with physical ability was all he required. As he finished off another troop, he went back to the captain, and lifted him by the neck, who had just appeared from cover to fire.

“Answers. Now. I’m sure you clones are more competent then those idiotic droids I had the displeasure of leading.” He said, tightening his grip, the captain grasping at his claws, his blaster having fallen to the ground.

“You will suffer by the emperor!” he said, and grievous had enough. He had possibly recovered memories, survived a duel with one of his greatest foes in the Jedi order, and barely survived falling into the pits of Utapu. His day was annoying enough. He snapped his neck, the clone falling lifelessly to the ground, the body crumpling. The hall went into silence, as it would be some time before reinforcements came to help the fallen squad. As he looked up toward the hallway, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, and collapsed to the ground on one knee, coughing violently.

“Augh. That fall did me no good. These clones are just as useless as I expected. No matter. However,…” he thought out loud, looking toward one of the inside bays within the tunnel, with a medical symbol above. His walked over to it, and went in. Inside it was quiet, except for one alone clone. He saw grievous, and fell back toward the wall, seeing the general battered, scarred, and sullen body.

“your gonna kill me aren’t you! I have done nothing but heal!” grievous looked down at him, surprised to see a semi reasonable clone.

“you do not fight?”

“No! I am a medically staffed clone. I have basic combat training-why am I even telling you this! I’d rather take my own life-“on that note Grievous fell on the nearby medical table, coughing much harder than he had before.

“Dammit. I cant believe it has come to this. Clone. Do you know anything about cyborg repair?” Grievous asked, a hint of disparagement in his synthesized voice. The clone hesitantly nodded, beads of sweat under the helm.

“yes. Considering you have been wiped from the record, no one will know. Not like I care. I am done with this order 66 crap.”

Grievous tilted his head at that statement. “You, tell me. What is order 66? And what do you mean by wiped from the record?” the clone sighed and began taking a collection of surgical equipment from a cabinet, a nearby terminal lighting up with paragraphs of information.

“The order from the emperor to eliminate all Jedi and force sensitives. He did not mention you in the order, although I heard the racket down the hallway. I searched out of curiosity, and the second it seems he sent the order out, you were wiped from all, now imperial, record. You are considered dead by the galaxy.” The clone replied, pulling up a few empty holo folders on a nearby screen.

“So then my personal headquarters may also be destroyed. They probably want all traces of me gone.” He responded, leaning onto the table.

“I don’t know about that. However, I had found a small chip-“ he beckoned to one on the table next to him-“in my skull, during an accidental x-ray examination. I removed it immediately, and conveniently before the order was put out. I was only solo duty here, so no one knows. And you now, I guess.”

The surgeon gathered his tools onto a slight table and extended the medical bay bed as far as he could to accommodate Grievous. He took a few bacta tank IV’s and tried to find somewhere to hook them up. He found a few small ports on his ribcage sides, and plugged them in. he looked over grievous’ body, trying to find a way to access his ribcage.

“I’m surprised you trust me.” The clone said. Grievous looked over at him.

“Be glad of it. I also found a chip in my spinal cord, after I had fallen.” He gave it to the clone, who examined it.

“Indeed. A memory repressor chip. Similar in design to mine, but more powerful, and focused on restraining.” He looked at grievous as he said that, noting how seemingly naturally relaxed the monsters eyes were. “I’m surprised your conscious with it out. I barely got mine out without automated assistance. However, mine was deeper, so you were certainly lucky. Now, Ill need to you, quite literally, open your chest cavity. Can you do that?” he asked, ready with some anesthetic medicine. Grievous nodded.

“Yes.” With a loud cracking of metal and pivots squealing, he opened his chest cavity, revealing the green, pumping sack of all his organs. He looked down, seeing all that was remaining of his flesh body.

“no way. That’s all that’s left of your flesh body, including your brain and spinal cord. What happened to you?”

“many things.” The clone nodded.

“Right. one more thing. My code is 5832, everyone calls me Doc. Is Grievous your only name?”

Grievous thought for a moment, and like a thin cloud on a sandy planet, a word that did come up disappeared. “yes.”

“alright. I’ll do my best.” Grievous looked to the side, then back to Doc.

The cyborg was silent. For a second he thought about saying something, but decided against it.

Grievous kept his eyes on the clone, who as Grievous drifted into unconsciousness, collected a few tools from a bench, and began immediately working.

“Er, thank you.” Grievous barely murmured. As his words barely escaped his vocal cords, his eyes gently closed…

Then darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“I can’t believe it.” The clone said, as he continued working through the damage Grievous had received. He picked apart various armor components, either severely damaged or barely holding together. The blast that he had endured had certainly saved his life. It was clear that advanced surgical maneuvers would need to be done, and it was also evident the now traitorous clone did not have much time. As the former general slept, Doc worked tirelessly to fix him, replacing anything he could that was compatible. Servos, joints, ligaments, anything that needed it he did the best for.

And yet- why? Why was he doing this? Was it because, that barely even a few minutes ago, he saw General Kenobi shot down from the rock walls, seemingly falling to his death? Or was it now, that he was awaken to the truth of it all, he had to forgive himself for what he, could have done? He did not know. But it just was one of those things that as a clone trooper, a man with one job, was just a tad to complex to think about. He shook his head.

It certainly was food for thought, however, for later. After he helped this cyborg in front of him. The one, who had killed many of his brothers.

Not that he was one of those brothers anymore.

Truly the day could not get any more strange, could it? Possibly.

Grievous soon awoke, although his pain from the surgery 5832 was doing was not there. Seemingly, the anesthetics were enough to dull the pain, but not keep him fully under.

“I am awake again it seems. How goes the process?” Grievous asked, tilting his head forward, getting a slight look at the surgical process. Doc kept his focus on the process.

“Good, surprisingly. It seems your synthsac was filled with a most precarious fluid, that could combust with almost any level of force. You were lucky to not have been hit by that bolt.” Grievous looked down his chest, seeing as his cavity was drained, the clones gloves dirtied with the fluid that used to be there. “I will replace it with a far better fluid, that will not catch fire, hopefully. It’s a composite liquid of Bacta tank fluid and the fluid used to keep organs healthy in transplant transport.” He commented, Grievous simply looking on, and continued working. “I’ve also replaced some of your armor components with some from the tanks, but you will need to go to a dedicated professional to be fully rebuilt.” Grievous nodded. As Grievous lay his head back down, Doc glanced up and down it, noting the interesting features of his mask.

“You were from Kaleesh?” Doc asked.

“Yes. My home world.” Grievous looked up at the ceiling, now recalling the beautiful skies. “It was a peaceful place.” He raised his hand, clenching it as if to snap a steel bar. “Until, those damned Jedi, they left my people to die!” seeing his patient getting upset, Doc going over to an informational terminal, clicking on the keyboard until some information came up onto the screen.

“Oh, the economic sanctions? I’ve heard about those. They were lifted recently. And you speak of the huk attack on Kaleesh?” Grievous nodded, rage in his sith-like eyes. Doc clicked a few more buttons, bringing up a holographic document. On it was a sheet of numbers and maps, with small descriptions underneath.

“The jedi made reconcile with your people. Were you never told about it?” Doc asked. Grievous moved his eyes to the document projection, looking over it.

“Impossible. I was told my people were oppressed! STARVED!” grievous nearly yelled, his synthetic voice echoing throughout the room. Doc put a hand up to his face, shaking his head.

“It seems I was not the only one deceived. You were made to kill the Jedi, and yet you were never informed on their peace talks? Their valiant acts of diplomacy?” Doc said, picking a tool up from the side table, getting back to his work. Grievous continued reading the page. He remembered distinctly; the promise had had forced those surgeons to make. They would enhance his body, yes. But his mind had to stay intact. They had betrayed his trust. He was a fool. Yet here he was, his mind free of those artificial feelings. He hoped anyway that this was the case. 

“so then. All I have been told, is untrue. My people are safe?” Doc silently shrugged, then after a second replied.

“I can’t tell you that, I’m sorry.” Grievous appreciated the notion. If there was any chance he could come back home, regardless of how he looked now, with this body-

He would take it. He needed to feel it again. That, feeling, of home.

He looked back at Doc again, tilting his head along the pillow it was on.

“The Jedi. What-” Grievous paused, closing the document and handing it back. “what, were they like? You remember, without being directly manipulated.” He asked.

Doc sighed and put down a tool he was using. “They were. Kind. Although the senate had placed them, guardians of peace and all, as leaders in the war, we looked up to them. It was good we fought droids, and not living beings. Killing was not their objective in their lives. They were protectors.” Doc said, then looked at the symbol of the Republic on the door.

“I’m not a philosopher by any means, I’m just a common medic. But you ask anyone. No one disagrees, we turned them into warriors. Sure they were one of the greatest forces of martial combat in the galaxy, but never soldiers at heart.” Doc continued, connecting some wires together and soldering parts of Grievous’ joints. He looked over at grievous, who was staring into the ceiling, with those gold eyes of his.

“I, I have to ask.” Doc asked. Grievous looked back at him. “how many?” Grievous knew what he was talking about, as much as he disliked that. Grievous sighed, noting his breathing was much clearer.

“I, Remember. Every fight. Every duel. Every saber that I took. The moment of despair, be it the master, apprentice, or student had on their face. the moment when I turned away, their bodies lying on the ground, never to speak, cry, laugh ever again.” He started, then got quiet. He took the chip that was inside his spine, and examined it again, turning it over in his cold hands. “All, because of this. Lies. Deception. And to make me, a killing machine.” He said in his synthetic voice, no lips, no face movements. He rested the chip back on the table. “I don’t even remember my original name anymore. My original body is gone.” He went quiet, placing the chip back on the table. Before, he was always filled with rushing fury toward anything. A droid, a Jedi, a control console. But now…

Then, the clone smiled.

“But people change don’t they? It was one of the teachings of the Jedi if I remember correctly.” Doc added. Grievous did not respond, as he lay there. Doc chuckled. “Us clones don’t change. We’re made to be expendable really. Fight in a war, die in a war. But that’s the thing that changes us. I remember all the lives I’ve saved, and how they all thanked me in the end. Whether or not they survived the next fight wasn’t up to me after that. But at least I improved their chances.” He looked at grievous once more. “Who knows. maybe you’ll change too, do something for someone that will change their view of you forever.”

Grievous looked away toward the wall. They were there in silence, as Doc took another IV pipet. “Well, I’ll need to put you under again. And you may notice your breathing a little better. I’ve fixed up your lungs, seems someone, or something crushed it good.” Grievous recalled the hardy Jedi with the Amethyst blade who did that. It seemed so long ago now, even if it was a few months. Whenever he recalled a fight or memory, he felt either hatred, or vile satisfaction. Yet this time, he looked back on that memory with an air of acceptance. It was in the past, and it no longer mattered. 

As he began to go under for a second time, he felt that fading feeling again. He had to go back to Kaleesh. What he would do there, he did not know. He did not know if he would be accepted again by his people. Sure he was considered a demigod by them, a war hero.

Now he was a demon.

Was, anyway.

Although he had been stationed on Utapu for an awfully long time, 5832 primarily worked on fully organic subjects, with only slight experience in the biomechanical. Far and few between. He knew this caliber of engineering was out of his league, but seeing as to how close the, thing, had come to deaths door, he had to do something. And it was crystal clear Grievous was no longer the raging machine he was. _Thank you? From him? What the hell happened to him in the past few hours, and down in that pit?_ Doc thought to himself, splicing two wires together around Grievous’ heart; or whatever it was that sent blood around the remainders of his strange body.

As he came close to finishing what he could, he heard rustling down the hall.

_Damn. Some of the clones must have survived his attack. Bad timing._ He took a few more glances around his body, made some more adjustments, and took Grievous off the meds. The cyborg soon woke up again, his eyes blinking open. Doc raised a finger to his mouth, as he pointed his other hand toward the hall. Grievous nodded, and rose back up, using a claw to push himself up, the servos and mechanical limbs whirring to life.

“I appreciate what you have done, I feel much closer back to original strength. I assume there are clones outside?” he asked.

“yes. Do you have a ship?” Grievous nodded. Doc went to the door, watching as clones passed by the room.

“Go Grievous. They do not know of my difference. Although here is something I picked up while you were down.” He handed him a small drive. “there was an emergency call to action against the Jedi Plo Koon off world. I have a feeling you should go there.” The trooper said, taking a stealthily peek again through the door.

“I will do so. I do not belong here with you 5832. Thank you for all you have done for me, knowing what I had done in the past.” He said, donning his cloak that he had found on the way to the medical room.

“yeah. I hope we meet again, new Grievous.”

“likewise. As a Kaleesh, I hope, I will be honored to meet you again.” He replied, setting off through the corridors to find his ship.

And only a moment later, the clone squadron bashed through to the room, only to find a clone 5832 rummaging around some closets.

“5832! Have you seen the general!”

“I haven’t captain. I was engrossed in some medical data that needed to be uploaded.” The captain shook his head, taking one last look inside the room.

“someone been in here?”

“No, just needs to be reorganized from the last few patients.”  
“are you sure?”  
“Of course.” _I hope my lie can hide you. It will not be long before they find you again. Stay safe._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Here it is. Surprised the bay is still empty as it was. Grievous thought, taking a careful look around him. The bay in which his ship was held was surprisingly devoid of anything. The blaster that he had been shot with was still there, which had seemed to be tossed aside. Of course Kenobi was long gone, and soon he would be too.  
At least, that’s what he would have hoped to think.  
Where his ship once was- was nothing.  
“Kenobi. Damn him. Of course he took it, what a surprise.” He looked around, seeing how the rest of the hangar was empty. He would need to find a replacement, and fast. Seems going back to the Republic forces was the only option, most likely the CIS forces have been wiped out by now. He looked around one more time, but there were no fighters to be found here. Non droid operator fighters on the side of the CIS was very scarce, and there was no chance he would find such a craft here. He walked back to the edge of the massive pit, looking up and down. Clone forces with their huge dropships were already beginning to fly down to his position, only throwing another wrench into his plans. He no longer had a backup force of mindless droids to use.  
For the first time in a while, he was on his own. Not that it made a difference.  
He knew from previous encounters there was always a main hangar all the republic forces came from, even during invasions or assaults. All he needed was the location of one. If he was able to find a medical bay, he could certainly find clone ships.  
As the loud hover engines of the dropship neared, he readied himself, compressing his legs into the ground, the synthetic muscles and servos pushing maximum force downwards.  
This was going to be interesting.  
As soon as the gunship leveled, he leapt onto it, smashing down onto the hull, his metal claws burrowing in, the lights on the inside of the gunship going emergency red.  
“HELP! ALL CLONES, GRIEVOUS IS ALIVE! I REPEAT, THE SECONDARY TARGET IS ALIVE-AHH!” The clone inside the turret cried into his comms, but Grievous’ claw would prevent that, throwing the clown out and down into the pit. The other turret whipped around, but due to where he was it was to no avail. A few clone troops within angled themselves outside, and began firing their blasters toward him, but he was already on top. He looked upwards, beyond another gunship, its guns now aiming downwards at him.  
But then there it was, hovering above that gunship.  
A Y-wing starfighter, exactly what he needed. Its bomber based design and size allowed for it to have a small hyperspace drive, not needing a hyperspace jump ring to go farther distances.  
As the blaster bolts from the turrets railed the gunship, he jumped up onto the wall, climbing a few meters before jumping out again, grabbing onto a moving turret on the second gunships side. His hand claws cracked open the turret glass, the clone within terrified, desperately trying to throw grievous off. By the time he started firing, Grievous was already inside, throwing clones out, smashing another into the floor of the gunship. The gunship whirled about, nearly crashing into the walls of the sinkhole, the rest of the clones falling out, the pilot now desperate to get him off.  
Truly, It seemed he was hated as much as the Jedi. What a thought. He looked up again, the y bomber accompanied by two others still coming down. He had only a slim window to get onto it. He swung up onto the roof, putting his arms behind him, a hunter ready to leap onto his target.  
With a crack of metal sheet against metal plate and circuitry, he jumped upwards, barely grabbing onto the Y wing, its careful hovering disrupted by the cyborgs takeover attempt, its side wings almost hitting the stone face. he didn’t bother to look down, even as the gunship he came from exploded on the side of the rock wall, its shards flying past. He brought himself up, matching yellow eyes with the lone pilot of the Y-wing. He walked toward him, when suddenly the pilot quickly rotated the craft on its axis. The Cyborgs metal claws dug tightly into the hull, and even as Grievous could feel his brain almost pressing against his skull, he hung on, the ship swinging around on its axis. He landed one hand on the craft, fully attached. After the pilot slowed for just a moment, still human after all, the grey and white face of Grievous popped up in his front view. Not even before he screamed could he escape grievous’ hand, which had held the cockpit window open as the clone attempted ejection, the process interrupted. He held the pilot for a second, then dropped him over the edge, the clones scream echoing as he fell. He hopped into the seat, adjusting it so he was not completely scrunched on the inside for his size, inappropriate as it was. He reached his arms out and viewed the controls, thankful that most of it was similar to his own craft. As the window above him shut and sealed with a hiss, he looked up, more fighters now coming in to intercept his escape.  
A memory floated to the surface for a moment from back on Kaleesh. He remembered the first time he had flown a fighter, the absolute rush it had given him. The pleasure and enjoyment of it, zooming through the green atmosphere of his home world.  
He shook his head. There was no time for that right now. He glanced again at the drive Doc had given him, the coordinates of an attack clearly displayed on it. It was certainly clear that Doc was no ordinary clone, at least that was the impression he had of him. As the engines revved up to full power, he plugged in the coordinates Doc had given him.  
Plo Koon. I remember him very well, a fine warrior of the Jedi. I fought him back on the malevolence, a few years ago. It feels like yesterday when I commanded that mighty ship. Those droids made the experience much worse, humph. It seems even the mightiest of Jedi master have fallen to this order 66. He thought, a single robotic finger tapping on the console. The navigation systems blinked and pinged as the ship oriented itself toward the target system. Straight out of the sinkhole.  
He almost laughed as the ships began to swarm around him, He was about to pull a Skywalker level of stunt. Although the bomber class fighter was small, it was capable of hyperspace travel. He was lucky the system Plo Koon was on was close enough to Utapu. Once he cleared the planet’s atmosphere, he clicked a few more buttons and fired off into hyperspace, enveloping the ship in stretched star lines, the republic fighters attempting to take him out disappearing far behind him.  
As he lay back in his seat, he admired how, beautiful hyperspace was. The blueness of it flashed by him. He knew of the tales of hyper-sickness, so he did not stare long into that void. In a few short minutes, he blinked back into existence, empty space all around him, a planet in front. He looked one more time to check the coordinates were exact.  
They were.  
This would be an experience. The first time he would meet a Jedi again. What will it be like? The aftermath of an order 66 attack? Most interesting. As he descended into the planets inner atmosphere, the pillars of smoke from a location atop a tower came into view.

The world itself was one of cities within rings hovering amongst massive clouds. All along those rings were thousands of buildings, dotting to the very border of each one. The structures were huge, allowing for expansion easily. It had been target for invasion according to the data Doc had given him, but in general it did not possess much strategic value, besides being an economic trades junction in this part of the galaxy.  
A perfect place to eliminate one of the strongest Jedi on the council.  
As he descended downwards to the city, he saw huge groups of people rushing through the streets, smoke plumes everywhere. Citizens of the planet were rushing to the tower in massive crowds, and grievous had to land his ship on one of the flatter roofs to safely park. He quickly got out, and aligned himself toward the smoked building. Overhead, republic symbol adorned starfighters roared, their attack on the master finished, and their role on this world done. As he moved, the ships went off into the distant, their journey unknown. Grievous leapt from one building to another, making his way above the crowd to the burning ship.  
He soon came upon the building. It was tall, round, and what had been satellite receiver tech on top had already crashed down to the street below in flames. The remnants of a Jedi starfighter was barely clinging onto the building, its smoking remains creaking and crackling. Grievous lept on top of the tower, and found his way down to a wide, spacious room, covered in dust and smoke.  
Empty, besides the hulk of craft jammed into the wall. He slipped off his cloak, and quietly made his way to it.  
Breathing. It was there, he heard it. He was still alive; he had to be. Otherwise he had come here for nothing, and grievous disliked that possibility. He lifted what was left of the cracked cockpit window, revealing a slumped over body, the beings chest barely heaving. To Grievous it was familiar, the Anti-ox mask, the facial features like no other being in the galaxy.

“So-*cough* you’ve, come to finish me.” the fallen Jedi stated, coughs intermittent in his respirations. Grievous kneeled, eye to eye with the injured master. Plo Koon barely raised a hand.  
“I’ll retract that, I can tell. You are not the same Grievous.” He nodded.  
“yes. I came here on information from clone 5832.” Plo laid back slightly in his seat.  
“Ah. Him. I remember how he patched my wounds once. So Kindred.” Grievous nodded.  
“Yes. He restored me to full health after my duel with Kenobi.”  
“so you fought Kenobi? I am surprised you survived.” Plo joked, his voice getting quieter. “Grievous. You, You are different now. The force, it tells us many things about others. Emotions, vulnerabilities.” He continued, rasping. “The future.” He held out his hand, now almost lifeless, blood oozing from wounds on it. “I, do not have much longer in this world. But it is not the end for me. The force is with us, even in death.” Grievous nodded.  
With a tired breath, Plo unfolded his hand, a small holo projector rolling out onto grievous’ claw. “I-I want you to take this, to my home world. To my family. They may reject you. But once they hear this. You will know, and they will know.” He said, coughing hard, his chest barely rising.

“Tell me Grievous. Do you-“ he placed his other hand, a single finger on his metal chest. 

“Do you believe you can change?” he asked. Grievous was quiet, then Koon retracted his hand, laying it back on his chest.

“I-“ he was about to respond, then looked up once more.  
His hands had crossed together over his body. Chest, no longer rising. No more air passing through that mask of his. Grievous stood there for a minute. He then took off his cloak, and lifted the body out of the ship, wrapping it. He took Plo’s lightsaber and tucked it in between the folds of the fabric.  
He carried it outside, slowly and steadily. He hopped across the buildings, careful not to disturb the wrap too much. He got to his fighter, and placed the deceased into the storage bay, gentle with it as he could. He clicked the button to close the bay and stepped into the pilots seat. He took another look around the sky, seeing there were far fewer republic forces now. He flicked a few buttons and switches, leaning back, his shoulders feeling lighter than before.  
“Careful young one. While we are warriors of Kaleesh, we must take the time to honor our dead.”  
“Yes great elder. Is it true, that some day we all will join them?”  
“yes. But in our hearts their spirits will push us to do greater with every generation, that we must never forget, and to make the most out of our time in this realm.”  
Grievous put a hand to his head, shaking it. Another memory.  
He looked out of his cockpit as fighters swarmed the tower, flying around it, buzzing vultures in a harsh desert, anxious to see the outcome of the leftovers. He soon took off to Koons home planet, not bothering to even glance back as he exited the atmosphere.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The Kel Dor’s homeworld of Dorin was a beautiful world considered by many, at least from the outside. Its sun illuminated its illustrious, gemlike exterior atmosphere, sandy brown and greys, evident of its unique atmosphere. As he came close, Grievous donned an additional respirator. Although Doc had fixed his coughing issues, he wore the added protection for such planets as Koons home world. Its unique air, composed of helium, nitrates, and hydrogen was dangerous to any being except for the native species of Kel Dor, of whom Koon was part of. As he descended into the subspheres, its rugged environment was soon present. Sharp, ragged cliffs, paired with flat deserts that for sure nothing could survive. Checking the coordinates inscribed on the holo projector, he landed his craft, the sand and dirt coming up in a huge plume. He climbed out, the sound of his breathing amplified by the respirator. He clicked open the storage bay and took out the wrap. He checked the coordinates again on the holo projector and headed toward his destination.  
As he got close, suddenly-  
BZT! The familiar glow of a lightsaber lit up the view in front of him, a singular woman facing him. She angled the emerald blade toward him, humming in the helium hydrogen atmosphere. Her face was that like Plo’s, with facial marks and tendons in the same pattern as his.   
“YOU! Damn the force, I knew you were coming! I can’t believe after all the order has now gone through you are still determined to exterminate us!”   
Grievous kept silent yet continued to walk forward. He had no sabers, and without a cloak this was obvious. He sighed, but it was barely heard through the additional respirator he had taken from the stolen vessel.  
“The force is so all powerful, but it did not tell you who I am carrying?” he said, only a few feet from the Jedi. She gripped the lightsaber with two hands tighter. As she began walking toward him, he sighed. With one hand, he unraveled part of the wrap in her direction.   
She stopped.  
“So. You brought his body to humiliate us before you kill us all? Showing us your trophy? GIVE ME MY UNCLE!” cried Sha Koon. The Kel Dor did not need their respirators on their home world, but her un-Jedi like fury was loud enough for all to hear. Grievous, in the best way he could, lowered the body down to the ground, and stood back.   
He took out the holo-projector he got earlier and threw it to her, Sha easily catching it with her non lightsaber hand, the knights weapon still pointed at him; a low humming in the wind.   
“Listen to it. On his dying breath he asked for us both to listen to this.” With a great, long second of hesitation, She lowered her blade, and while not pointed up at him, it stayed on. She took one look at the wrapping of her uncle, then finally turned off the lightsaber. She turned around briefly, motioning to someone in the distance. Grievous stepped back a few paces as a few more of her kind, dressed in formal garb, took the body. She raised an empty palm to some nearby ground, and with a force push excavated a hole, the sand parting, a a small ravine in place. With careful force lifting, she lowered her uncles body into the ground, then washing it over with the brown sand. She knelt down, placing an open palm on the mound. With another flow of the wind and force, she pressed the mound down into the ground, now in line with the rest of his people.  
She turned back to Grievous, who had partially turned away for the proceeding.   
“I cannot believe it. The great Jedi Killer is now talking to me. About my deceased uncle.” She quietly said, facing Grievous. He nodded.  
“I, was almost unsurprised he had made that decision. But I remember fighting master Koon, back on the malevolence campaign. He made decisions black and white. He was not one for contemplating things.” He replied. He paused for a moment. “He fought honorably in his final battle.”  
“I would expect nothing less of Uncle Plo.”  
“Agreed.” He replied, looking over to the grave of the fallen Master, the Kel Dor formals performing a ritual.  
Then, there it was again. The feeling of home.  
“But sir, he can no longer fight when he is in the ground!”  
“My young Kaleesh. You will soon understand, when you grow older, how we honor those who have gone on. He will continue to fight into the afterlife, honoring us forever.”  
“I will miss him.”  
“We all will.”

Grievous looked at the finished grave, some markings on it. Koons mask was adorned atop a stone, forever in memorial of the great man, the great winds whistling by. Sha Koon turned to Grievous, turning and motioned toward the steep cliff walls.   
“lets have a listen then. To my uncles dying words.” Sha Koon said. He nodded and promptly took out the holo-projector. She beckoned for him to follow her inside a building within the cliff walls. She opened the door, to a small living room of sorts, windows to the outside deserts. A small Kel Dor child was playing with some toys, levitating them into the air, to and fro. Her facial features were very similar to that of Sha’s, but her face was flatter because of her not wearing the mask. Her Skin tone was the same as her sisters, a light peach color.  
A force sensitive. Unsurprising with this family. He thought to himself. She invited him to sit a table, then with a gentle risen hand, levitated the small child to the table, who flapped her hands about as Sha moved her, giggling.   
“This is my smaller sister, Tae Koon.” She commented, the small one waving at Grievous, to which grievous was surprised. A child completely unfazed at the sight of me? Grievous thought. Her force abilities were certainly present, as she almost wiggled off the additional respirator, which grievous had to hold down. Sha Koon laughed a little, nervously, as she swathed her sisters hand down.   
“She’s potent isn’t she. Our mother, she passed away many years ago. The local keepers took her in, and me with her. Tae is a quiet one, but I have a feeling when she grows older she will be very talkative.” She paused. “But for now, Lets hear what dear old uncle has to say.”   
He nodded. She sighed, then placed the device on the table. A small blue flicker, than the familiar voice and figure of Plo Koon appeared, reclined in his pilots seat, one hand over his chest, which did not rise and fall evenly.  
“My wonderful Sha Koon. I hope this message reaches you in good health and mentality.” He paused, then continued.  
“I, have had a vision of what is to come. I will ask you to accept something, a request. Which may sound insane when you receive it.” He paused again, a slight cough.  
This was right before I arrived. Grievous thought, two hands folded together in front of his face.  
The holographic Plo took a raspy breath, then began again.  
“General, Grievous. He will come to you. He has changed, the force tells me this. And I know. This Jedi Extermination project, or whatever it is, will come to our home. You must run. And Tae Koon is not safe with you. You, have something greater to do.” He said, Sha Koon nodding. He took another moment, then continued, the sound of starfighters flying over head in the background of the recording.  
“Tae Koon will be taken care of by Grievous. I understand how, horrible it may seem. But you must understand. I know you will.” He paused again.  
“I will forever remember you, my Sha Koon. My wonderful Niece. Treasure every moment you have. Goodbye. May the force be with you, always.”


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
Click.  
Sha Koon and Grievous sat there for a moment after the recording finished, both silent, as if the entire world had come to a quiet stop, the winds outside on Dorin the only things moving. She sharply breathed out as she reclined in her seat, putting her hands together. Grievous sat there, looking at the transponder. Sha sat up first.  
“I. Did, not expect that.” She said, the little Tae looking at her face with curiosity. Grievous nodded. “I mean, he was famous for his black and white decisions about things. He believed justice, and by extension the force had plans that were defined. So for him to say this..” she continued, thinking hard. “He, well..”  
“Put some thought into it?” Grievous finished.  
“That’s one way to put it.”   
As Tae played around some more, levitating some objects in the air, then dropping them again, Grievous looked back outside at where Plo’s grave was. Now it was covered in sand, his home planet taking the great warrior back to where he came from, a peaceful end, one with the force, as all the Jedi would say. Sha Koon got up, grabbed a few things, then putting them into a simple brown woven bag.   
“Me and uncle, we never did butt heads, we always were on the same wavelength so to speak. And now-“ she zipped up the bag “-is no different. I know what you have done, but as a Jedi, I must preach what I say.” She placed the bag in front of Grievous. “We Jedi believed in the betterment, and best hope for all in the galaxy. No matter how evil, crooked you were, or Sith, the belief that there was still good within is what we abide by.” She sat down once again across from grievous, taking out her lightsaber. She turned it in midair with the force, disassembling it, an exploded view of the magnificent weapon, the beauty of the green Kyber crystal shimmering with the energy of the light side. After a second, she reassembled it, and placed it between the two.  
“Just like there is a crystal within the saber, there is good within you Grievous. There will be many who will never forgive you for what you have done. But know this-“ she said, turning on the blade, its green hue illuminating the room. She took the saber, turned it off, then put it on her waist again.   
“I do, even if I may not want to. Find that spark of good within yourself through my sister Grievous.” She finished, standing up. She lifted her small sister, and took one more thing out of the bag, giving it to Grievous, it was wrapped in the same material. He unpacked it, it being the same Anti-ox mask as Sha’s.   
“She will be able to use this for many years, but eventually will need to find one that fits her. I replaced my first mask right around obtaining my saber, so you have a few years.” She said. If their species could smile, she would, albeit it slightly.   
A universal force telling her and her uncle to let a once galaxy feared cyborg general take care of a force sensitive child? This was certainly a day. She thought to herself. “Well besides that, I think there is one more thing you might want.” She got up again and went to a nearby storage closet. She took out a small chest, lined with stone and intricate decorations. She clicked open the lock, taking out what looked like to be a cloak, except with a dark brown base and multiple colorings of blue, orange, and white. “she held it up, it unfolding to reveal shapes that lined the edges and center lane of the cloak.  
“This was supposed to go with my father at his final hour, as part of our final goodbye ceremony. but we decided on using your cloak instead.” She looked down for a second, then motioned it toward him. ”Something tells me he would have wanted you to take this. Heh, I guess that would be the force.” She scoffed, then unfolded it, the cloak reaching almost the same length as Grievous’ previous one. “considering its supposed to be longer, it should fit you just fine. Just take care of it, that’s all I’m asking. As well as her of course.” She finished, and handed it to him. He inspected it, and with a flick of his hand donned it around his shoulders, a perfect fit.   
There. There it is again. That feeling of home. Honor, as a warrior. He thought, as he looked at the cloak enveloping his arms. It somehow fit him exactly, as if it was destined for him to wear it.   
Could he even wear it? Did he deserve it?  
No. he did not dwell on such thoughts. It was not the time. Things were different now. A new life. Tae still clung to Sha, even as she tried to gently pry her sister off of her, the little one slightly shaking. Sha knelt down to face her younger sibling, putting her hands around her shoulders.  
“I love you so much my little sister. And I know this will be painful, for both of us. But be brave ok? Remember, the force always will guide us to the best option, so believe in its power and wisdom. And remember to trust your instinct, as I am now.” Tae nodded, hugging Sha Koon again, Sha wrapping her arms snugly around her sister, embracing every second she had left with her kin. Grievous strapped the bag around his shoulder, and once the family hug was over, tamely lowering his hand as an offer to the little Kel Dor Jedi.   
“My son, come with me. Today your training for our great fights will begin, and one day, you will be in my spot, taking those younger than you into the realm of education and the passing on of knowledge. It may be scary, but remember that you are part of the most courageous race in the galaxy. Never forget it.” Another memory, with a feeling of warmth and possibility. And here he was, now in that role of teacher.   
After a moment, Tae walked over to Grievous, peering up his tall figure. After a second, she gingerly took his hand, embracing a metal claw finger with hers. She turned back toward her sister, and quickly ran back, hugging once more even tighter. She then went back to grievous, and as they left the home, then to the starfighter, she looked back as much as she could.   
As they hovered higher and higher into the windy atmosphere, Tae sitting on Grievous’ arm in the cockpit, she looked down to her sister, who waved her off, one hand up and the other on her chest. As they exited the atmosphere, the sight of her former home disappearing behind them, Tae clutched Grievous’ arm.  
It would be the last time Tae would see her sister, but not the last time she would see Dorin. Grievous only looked back once, unable to realize what kind of journey was in front of him, that would change everything, forever.   
As the ship lifted off, Sha watched, the last of her family leaving her. As she headed back inside, she began to pack her things. It would not be the last time she would see her sister, her gut told her.   
However, something else told her, deep down her in subconsciousness, that she would be different by the time she did. Very, very different.


End file.
